Grayson
by SplitSeams
Summary: A small, collaborative oc story my friends and I are making. Take place years after the ending to the Soul Eater manga and follows the story of Grayson Arnett, a meister in training.
1. Chapter 1

'_Moving isn't all too bad', _I thought to myself, lying on bed of the new apartment in Death City.

'_It's the people you can't trust, Grayson. Watch out for the people.'_

Everything felt unnatural. After getting up and pushing open the door of my room with a soft creak, I could see the evening sunlight shining through the window of my living room down the hallway. The dingy apartment that my parents had set me up in was colored a bleak gray. I had only moved in a few days ago and didn't have a chance to get some new furniture. So I ended up stuck with whatever the parents left me when they stuck me here. The orange light lit up the living room by the entrance, showing a thin layer of dust settled on the walls and tables.

I settled down on the musty futon in the living room, giving myself a chance to think about my current situation.

"This is it, Grayson", I whispered to myself, staring at the ceiling fan. "This is pretty much what your life has amassed to."

Life wasn't always like this. There used to be times before I even knew about Death City, Meisters, Weapons, and Souls. I used to live in California; belonged to a normal middle class family. But I was something of the black sheep of the family. Or some may consider it the _blue_ sheep of the family. If someone doesn't get that, I was born with blue hair. When I was old enough, I noticed I could see a small orb around the center of people's chests. When I tried to tell my parents, they thought i was joking around and I had to deal with it on my own. But it turns out that it wasn't a problem at all. I learned that if I listened close enough to them, I could learn more about that person rather than talking to them. When I was young, kids thought that it was a really cool trick; peering into the minds of others and figuring out things about them. But as I got older, the theatricality of my little trick didn't handle well with others.

Then that day had to happen. It was a normal day, or whatever I happened to classify as normal, spending time listening to the whispers of the orbs. By that time in my life, I had already earned the reputation of 'Freak' and was normally avoided. That's fine. I didn't like to talk much anyways. It was around noon and I had settled underneath a large oak tree in the park when I happened to see a group of teens walking my way. I wasn't always a scrawny kid, but I wasn't the most fit. And since no one ever wanted to help the 'freak', I was easy pickings for anyone that felt like they needed to blow off some steam.

"Hey, Freakshow! How's it going?", yelled out the largest, and obviously the leader, of the group.

_'Don't respond, Grayson. Just listen to the sound of the orbs', _I thought to myself. Usually if I ignore them enough and let them push me around a little, they get bored and just end it. Unfortunately, that wasn't how it was going to happen today.

"Hey! We're talking to you, Freak!" shouted the largest, getting in my face. The stink of his breath made me want to back up away from the tree, but his goons just held me in place.

"You look hungry, freak," he said. I wondered what he was talking about until the side of my face erupted in pain. "How 'bout a knuckle sandwich!" he cried out, which ushered a chorus of laughter from his friends.

"Real original", I muttered to myself.

"What was that?" he asked? He then grabbed my shirt and pulled me up from the ground to get eye level with him. "Say that to my face, Freakshow!"

Then something snapped in me. At that moment I knew I didn't want to take his crap anymore.

"Gladly, asshole", I said, glaring him down. Instinctively, I reached up for his face. When my hand made contact with his face, a tingling sensation ran down my arm and before I knew it, sparks seemed to be flying off my fingers and the goon was screaming in pain.

"Let go!" he screamed, trying to pry my hand away from his face. But I already had a firm grip covering half of his face.

"Not a chance!" I screamed in a blind rage, moving my other hand over the other half of his face. "No more!" I spat in his face, putting all of my effort into trying to get back at him. The man screamed even louder and louder until I though his voice would give out. After the confusion of what was happening went away, the rest of his gang had to pry me off of him.

When I glanced over at him, his friends were gathered around him. When I finally saw him, my stomach churned. The nameless goon's face was pointed towards the ground, convulsing crimson for what seemed for minutes. In between gasps, he looked up at his friends then glanced at me. His eyes were bloodshot and tears were streaming down his face. It wasn't long after that until the police picked us all up and an ambulance took the one to the hospital.

At the station, all of the friends told them it was me. They tried to convince them that I used a taser or something on his face, but none was found. I was left alone in what almost seemed like an interrogation room, alone with my thoughts.

'_How did I do that?'_ I kept thinking myself. _'Why did I do that? Why didn't I just stop?' _But then i figured it out. To show him that I'm not weak; to show everyone not to mess with me. I was tired. Just tired of being messed with, underestimated, and put down. '_But was that really the way to do it?'_

After the police were through with me, they couldn't find much to peg on me. There were no other witnesses to back up the goon's friends and there was no physical evidence to frame me. They released me from the station with a warning and told me that someone would be in touch. After what happened, my parents couldn't even look at me anymore.

It was a few days after that when a man came to my house. He was dressed in a black suit and wanted to speak with my parents and me. He said he was from the DWMA, the Death Weapon Meister Academy. He said it was a school, a special school filled with people just like me, unique people. I was something called a Meister, half of a pair for a Weapon and I had the ability to see people's souls, something not every Meister is able to do. It took little convincing for my parents to agree to send me there. I'm not sure whether they thought it would best for me or if they just wanted to get rid of me. They even paid for the ticket there and a month's rent of an apartment before the school put me in proper housing.

The day I was leaving, I hugged both of them saying "I'll miss you guys." But when I tried to look them in the eyes, the both looked away and said nothing. When I looked back as the bus drove away, both of them were already gone and I was alone.

I got up from the futon and made my way back to my room, picking up my deep, crimson jacket and yellow scarf with the DWMA insignia on the end. As I walked out of my apartment onto the cobblestone path that made up most of Death City, I handled the map of the city the man had given me before heading off a few days ago.

'_I'm supposed to make my way to the building in the center,' _I remembered. Walking up these foreign streets made me feel uneasy, as though the group of friends were still chasing after me. I decided to take the bus as close as I could.

On the bus, you see most of the city and the school happened to be the last stop. Around the city were lines of the same white bricked apartments, ceilings covered with the same auburn tiles stretching for as far as I could see. Outside of the city you hit the wasteland, nothing except sand, a cactus or two, and more sand. The same smiling sun lit up the entire city like a diamond in the rough. And that's when I saw the school.

Well, it didn't seem so much like a school rather than a castle in the center of the city. A staircase travelled up a hill to what seemed like a large, obsidian palace. Large candles seemed to protrude out of the school on four sides, giving it a sort of birthday cake aura.

'_Seriously! What is this school', _I thought to myself, awestruck by the school I was approaching.

As I got off the bus, I really had to question my whole situation here. Would I belong here? Would people treat me any differently than before? What's left for me outside of this city and school. Of course, I couldn't answer these questions because some idiot was cowering at the very bottom of the staircase.

"Are you ok?" I asked, slowly approaching the kid.

"Would you by any chance be a weapon?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

"Uh, no. I'm a," pausing for a second to try and remember whatever they said I was. "Meister. I'm a Meister. Why?" At that point whatever hope he seemed to have in his eyes vanished at my answer.

"Oh, well then you're useless to me." He quickly replied, getting up and dusting off his clothes as he spoke. "Now why don't you just be a good lad and get out of here."

"What an ass", I muttered to myself as I quickly made my way up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

As I made my way up the stairs, I could slowly hear the murmur of a crowd growing louder and louder. Reaching the top of the stairs, there was a large gathering of kids my age wandering around the cobblestone courtyard. The candles protruding out from the castle were lit in a spectacular fashion, illuminating the entire courtyard. Everyone was dressed in different ways. Some clothing varying from immensely fancy to casual wear. I figured I was kind of late to the party and sort of wandered off to the side. But before I fully camouflaged myself in the crowd, I heard a woman's voice calling me from the side.

"You! Young man! Over here!" she yelled over the crowd, waving a hand ushering me over. I made my way to the desk she was stationed at, weaving my way through the groups of kids already assembled before I arrived.  
>"Ummm, hi," I managed to get out, looking away out of nervousness. I've always had some sort of anxiety when talking to other people. Never really helped, especially when people already thought I was a freak. She didn't take this into consideration, smiling at me and tilting her head until I was done stuttering.<br>"Welcome to DWMA Orientation! I'm supposed to help any new first-years get started. Now first, are you a Demon Weapon or a Meister?" she said, never breaking eye contact. It was somewhat unsettling, but manageable.

"_Demon Weapon? That's what they call them here?_" I pondered to myself, slightly disturbed by the term "demon" used in the title.

"I'm a Meister," I said, still somewhat confused on the title.

"Perfect!" she said, clapping her hands together in excitement. She then pulled a name-tag out from a drawer in the desk and quickly scribbled the word "Meister" on it. When she was done, she handed it to me, explaining that everyone here was a Weapon or Meister and that I should try and find a partner for myself.

After walking away from the woman and putting the name tag on my chest, I tried walking through the crowd and join a group. But something about all the groups here, all the people chattering without a second thought to me being there, reminded me of home. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach and put my head down, walking over to the small wall at the edge of the courtyard.

"_Is there really nothing here for me?_" I thought to myself, staring out across the auburn tiled apartments. The smiling sun was just drifting below the horizon, casting it's orange haze upon all of Death City. "_Maybe there isn't really any place for me,_" feeling myself covered in a blanket of regret and disappointment.

"Hey there!" a chipper voice spoke behind me, waking me from my self loathing.

I turned around to find a boy about 16-17 standing right behind me. He was about my height, his head topped in shaggy, sand colored hair that he had shaved off the side of his head. He had a relatively stocky build, wearing an unbuttoned white dress shirt over a red tanktop and dark gray pants.

I pushed myself off the wall, sizing him up. Glancing down at his name tag, the name "Weapon" was set across the center of his chest, which he was displaying proudly.

"You're a Meister, right?" he asked, smiling brightly.

Glancing down at my own name tag, I just pointed towards it, not even dignifying the simple question with a response. Seeing my name tag, his demeanor lighten up even more, something I thought was impossible right now.

"Awesome!" he exclaimed, similarly reaching down and pointing at his own name tag. "I'm a weapon! We should team up!"

"_Is it really that simple_?" I thought to myself. I couldn't get a clear reading on this guy. His whole demeanor was very happy and outgoing, almost overacting each movement. I knew you couldn't read a book by it's cover, but I knew one way to get a better feeling on this guy.

Closing my eyes, I did my best to focus on his orb. All the voices around me went silent as I only heard whispers echoing from in front of me. But something was different about him. When I've listened to other people, all I've felt is cold and what they're currently feeling at that moment. Instead of cold, a warm radiated outwards from in front of me and I could only sense what I can explain as acceptance and determination.

"Trying to read my soul, huh?" he asked, his voice snapping me back to reality.

"Read your soul?" I asked, never hearing that term before.  
>"Yeah, reading my soul. Some Meisters can just look inside a person and read them like a book sometimes. Kinda rare." he said, walking past me and staring out over the city.<p>

"So does that make me special?" I asked, walking up beside him.

"Sure it does! We're all special in our own way!" he replied, beaming towards me.

I already knew something was different about Death City from the moment I got here. It wasn't the location, the weather, the style. Okay, maybe a little bit of the style. I mean, what's with all those weird skulls? But it wasn't any of those that made the city different, it was the people. If I were in any other city, if I were still home, I would of been shunned and hurt until I went crazy. But this city, these people, could offer a new start for me. I could be a new person if I wanted to me. And this city, this school, this kid, could be my ticket to happiness.

"So," he said, holding a hand out for a handshake. "Partners?"

"Partners," I agreed, reaching out and grasped his hand in mine with a firm handshake.

Then something crazy happened. When our hands met, there was a blinding, spiraling light in my hands until instead of warm skin I was met with cold steel. In an instant, the boy was gone and I was holding a shield about my height on my left forearm.

"By the way my name's Darren," a voice spoke in my head. It was the voice of the boy that I was partners with. "Darren Grimm."

"Where'd you go?" I spoke out loud, drawing more attention to myself than I already had when I was suddenly holding a shield.

"Relax, relax, I'm still here," he said, trying to keep me calm. "I'm a weapon, remember?" I looked down at the curved back of the shield and saw a flash of his smiling face. I couldn't believe anyone was capable of doing this.

I slid my arm out of the leather enarmes on the back of the shield and set him on the ground to get a good look at the front of the shield. The entire shield was made of a bronze colored metal, but the shield seemed to weigh almost nothing in my hands. There were amber accents outlining the shield and small designs around the top and bottom. In the center of the shield was what appeared to be a large red eye that would occasionally dart back and forth from me to the crowd surrounding us.

"Is this you too?" I asked, staring down at the center eye.

"Yup!" he replied. "Oh, put me back on your arm! One more thing!"

I slid my arm back through the enarmes and there was another flash of light. Instead of a shield, there was a bronze arm guard with the same amber accents up and down the metal. The arm guard wrapped my forearm in a tan leather and the metal reached up to about my elbow and ended at the end of my knuckles. There it stretched and turned into a point about half a foot from where my knuckles were.

"Pretty cool right?" he said proudly, turning back into his larger shield form.

I turned the shield around and there was an image of his upper half in the back.

"Aren't weapons supposed to be actual..weapons?" I asked. I had obviously upset him because his reflection quickly disappeared and the shield suddenly weighed a ton, tipping over and landing on my chest. I was caught underneath, hardly able to move and wondering what I did to upset him.

"Don't. Talk. About. My form." he said with a sudden agitation in his voice. "I don't like it when people underestimate me just cause I'm not an actual weapon."

"I..wasn't….underestimating you…" I managed to sputter out. It was pretty hard to talk when there was a shield weighing down on your chest like a cinder block or two.

"You weren't?" he asked, relieving a bit of the weight he was pressing down on me.

"No, I was just curious because your title really is 'Demon Weapon'. You don't look very demonic." I wheezed out. Never in my life have I loved the air so much.

"I still think that's underestimating!" he replied, adding a few dozen pounds back onto my chest.

"Alright..enough of this.." I said. I took both my hands and pushed on the back of the shield as hard as I could. Suddenly a familiar tingling ran down both my arms, resulting Darren yelling in what seemed to be a mixture of surprise and discomfort. The shield suddenly turned lighter than air, causing me to flip it off my torso and Darren turning back to his normal self.

"That seriously hurt, dude," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "You know, you should really give people some warning before you blast them with a soul menace. But at least you held back."

"Soul Menace?" I asked.

"You really are new to this, aren't you?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow in my general direction.

"Really? You don't say." I snarled back, annoyed by his extensive ignorance.

"Hey, don't blame me!" he snapped back.

We both stared at each other for a minute or so until we both seemed to laugh at the situation at hand. We both stood back up, dusting ourselves off and faced one another.

"I guess it's time for a proper introduction. Grayson Arnett, Meister." I extended my hand towards him.

"Darren Grimm, Demon Shield," he replied, firmly grasping my hand.

This is turning out to be an interesting city.


End file.
